


Every Other Week, We Need a New Address

by HarveyWallbanger



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Bizarre AU, Ethan's awful family, Gen, cartoonish magical violence done to a family pet, don't worry- the dog was fine, naughty magic, possibly next time Ethan and Giles will make out or something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-16
Updated: 2012-03-16
Packaged: 2017-11-02 01:26:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/363476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarveyWallbanger/pseuds/HarveyWallbanger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if, after Randall's death, the Watcher's Council didn't take back Giles?  And what if he went to live with Ethan and Ethan's parents?  And what if he and Ethan became party magicians?  No, really- what if?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Other Week, We Need a New Address

**Author's Note:**

> I am not in any way involved with Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and I'm not getting paid for this. Title comes from the song We're Desperate, by X.

"This is Hackney, all over again."  
"How can you say that? No one will suffer any lasting damage-"  
"Not physically."  
"Oh, they're young; they'll find a way to reconcile it."  
"They'll have nightmares for months."  
"All children have nightmares."  
"What about the parents?"  
"I'd have thought they'd be made of sterner stuff. They lived through the war, after all. When you've lived through a war, what's some entrails on a sitting room carpet? I stuffed them back in, and everything was all right."  
"That dog will never chase another car."  
"He shouldn't be chasing cars, anyway. It's dangerous."  
"Ethan-"  
"That silly girl shouldn't have volunteered the damn dog to be sawn in half if she didn't actually want it sawn in half."  
Rupert's voice was a dangerous hiss, like a slow leak in a tyre. "Perhaps she didn't expect to see quite so much in the way of entrails."  
"One dog, sawn in half, as advertised. What are we, piss artists?"

"It's that pair in the dinner jackets again, Myra. You go and see to them; I can't take the sight of them right now."  
"They're not so bad."  
"They'll park themselves at a table, and stay there all night, drinking and putting everyone off. That one with the glasses cries when he's had too much."  
"Why do you think they're always in dinner jackets?"  
"Dunno. I asked the one with the glasses, once, and he went all funny. Then the other one piped up, and said that they were professional magicians. As if I'd fall for that."

"When I think of what I might have had-"

"Oh, Shelly, you were right about the crying."

"Come on, now, dear, let's get a cup of tea in you; you'll feel miles better."  
"Don't want tea."  
"Well, then, what can I get you? A coffee, maybe?"  
"No." Now, he was pouting. It was worse than when her Ted was going through what they called 'the terrible twos'.  
"Thank you very much, Miss. I think that he just needs to go home."  
"Suit yourself."  
There was something not entirely wholesome about that young man, the friend of the one with the glasses; it gave her a chill from the inside out. He gave her a ten-pound note and a rather disconcerting grin, said 'Keep the change', and set to getting his mate to his feet. Shelly shoved the money into the front pocket of her apron, and walked back to the bar, where Myra was watching the rather skinny young man try to support the weight of the rather well-built young man. 'Well, now, you're not even trying to stand up, Ripper,' she heard, and then from the one with the glasses, 'Don't call me Ripper'.  
"Did I or did I not tell you what they were like?"  
"I've never seen them so bad."  
"That's nothing. One night, when you weren't here, they had a terrible row just outside. The one with the glasses was having some sort of episode, or something, shouting about vampires watching him, vampire watchers, or something."  
"Hmm," said Shelly, and remembered the money in the pocket of her apron. She fished around in the pocket, and not finding it, took out the contents. The contents amounted to a pad and a scrap of paper. She bit her lip. It had to have fallen out someplace…

"That was a nasty trick. She'll have to make up the money, herself."  
"Rejoined the land of the living, have we?"  
"Shut it."  
"You're so rude when you're drunk. It's rather invigorating."  
"God, I hate you." Some frankly unsettling noises then issued from somewhere in Rupert, and he stood up straight as though electrified, before lurching away from Ethan and being sick against a wall.  
"Feeling better?" Ethan asked.  
"Strangely, yes."  
That was when a light came on within the building to which the wall belonged, and they had to make a desperate escape from the building's occupant, who managed to pack every threat from police custody to beheading into a simple 'You, there!'

"Do you never wonder what life would have been like if things had gone differently?"  
"Differently in what respect?"  
"Well, if Randall hadn't died, or- or if I hadn't been sent into exile by the Watchers Council?"  
"'Sent into exile'- we do think highly of ourselves, don't we? It's not exile if you drink in the same places as Quentin Travers' driver."  
"Be serious, Ethan."  
"Never." Ethan sighed. "No, I don't think about what life would have been like if things had gone differently."  
"Never?"  
"No. It might surprise you to hear this, Ripper, but I'm actually quite satisfied with the state of things. 'Content', one might say. If one were extraordinarily brave, one might even say that I'm happy."  
"How can you be happy?"  
"It's totally effortless. One of the blessings of leading a simple, honest life."  
"I'm serious, Ethan."  
"Again, you batter my poor ears with that horrible word."  
"You live with your parents. You don't have a job- a proper one," Rupert added, before Ethan could protest that he was a gainfully employed entertainer, "You don't have any prospects. Ninety percent of the day, you're pissed, and the other ten percent, you're trying to secure the means of getting pissed."  
"Not true. I try to get at least eight hours of sleep."  
"You're thirty-"  
"Nearly thirty. And look twenty."  
"Don't you want more out of life?"  
"You mean chasing mindlessly after a teenaged girl, who's chasing mindlessly after vampires, who are chasing mindlessly after people?"  
"Well, yes."  
"I can safely say that I have absolutely no desire for anything of the sort."  
Rupert sighed, and was about to say something else, when Ethan spoke. "The sun's setting. Do you want to find a lonely road, pose as lost tourists, attract some vampires, and kill them?"  
"Well, yes, actually."  
"Good. After that, we'll find a pub, and you can buy me a drink."

"You boys are looking a bit rough. Get into some trouble?"  
"You have no idea."  
"Here, you're bleeding."  
"Cut myself shaving. I will have a very large gin and tonic. Keep them coming. My friend will pay."

"We were meant to pose as tourists together."  
"I was getting the drop on them."  
"Yes, but it doesn't actually work if they're getting the drop on you."  
"That was quite a coincidence about us having been at school together."  
"How did that come up, again?"  
"It was after you'd fainted."  
"Been knocked unconscious."  
"You hadn't been knocked at all; you'd fainted. One of them recognized me, and well, it was inevitable that we'd share a few reminiscences."  
"So that's why you were giggling about a dartboard."  
Rupert chuckled. "It's quite a funny story. You see-"  
"Yes. Luckily, I regained consciousness-"  
"Recovered from your fainting spell."  
"- and was able to kill one of them. Why did you let the other one run off?"  
Rupert took off his glasses, and examined them for longer than was necessary. "Well, we were at school together…"  
"Barman," Ethan called, "I'll have another one. My friend will be paying."

"Mummy got us a job."  
"Don't call your mother 'Mummy'. You're thirty."  
"Nearly thirty. Mater got us a job, then."  
"Is it legal?"  
"Of course, it's legal. It's the tenth birthday party of some cousin or other of ours."  
"How many cousins do you have that you can't keep them all straight?"  
"Quite a few, actually. We're a notoriously prolific family, especially Mummy's side."  
"Neither of your brothers, nor your sister have children, though."  
"Yes, well, we had to learn sometime. Having that many of us around isn't healthy."  
"Something of a public safety hazard."  
"You don't need to be cruel."  
"But you just said-"  
"I can say it about my own family. I don't say awful things about your relatives."  
"Yes, you do. You've said my father has a mind like a blocked toilet, and that my mother-"  
"Well, unkindness runs in my family."  
"Hypocrisy, too."  
"Yes, that, as well."  
"You are a lot of bastards. Is that unfair?"  
"No. That's a fair assessment."

"Finally, a job that went well."  
"I was mistaken for a servant numerous times, nearly dragged into a disused bedroom by one of your relatives, and had a cigarette put out on my jacket by another. In what way did it go well?"  
"Oh, I just managed to make off with quite a few things."  
"Won't your mother be angry with you?"  
"No. She'll be pleased, actually. There's a set a of candelabra she's had her eye on for about a decade-"  
"But how did you manage to get them out of the house?"  
"A magician never reveals his secrets."  
Conveniently, when Rupert pushed him over, there was a nice, soft hedge for Ethan to fall into, rather than the rosebushes they'd just passed.

"This is only temporary, you know."  
"According to the Buddhists, everything is temporary."  
"I mean, I am going to move out, at some point."  
"I know. You've told me nearly every day for five years. Not that I blame you. Why would you want to live in this lovely house for free, when you could hang your hat in some hovel, and pay for the privilege?"  
"I have my pride."  
"And what good has it done you?"  
"Sometimes, you go too far, Ethan."  
It was then that Rupert got up, and left the room. Ethan expected to find him sulking in the library, which was where he usually went when he was sulking, or avoiding one or more of the Raynes. Rupert was not there. He had not, in fact, even stopped there on his way to points unknown, as evidenced by the absence of a half-drunk cup of tea, which he was always leaving all over the house, like an animal caching food for leaner times. Rupert was not at their regular pub, nor was he at their back-up pub, which they visited when their regular pub was full of sport enthusiasts, nor was he at the pub that was a bit of a stretch of the legs but was the last place where Ethan had not passed a false note. Rupert had, in fact, been swallowed up by the aether.  
Or, that was what Ethan thought until he heard a public school voice making a poor attempt at sounding not quite so public school, narrow vowels swimming in cheap alcohol. "Leave me alone," the voice said, and Ethan had to look around a bit before he noticed Rupert leaning against a wall at the mouth of an alley.  
"I was leaving you alone. I didn't even know you were here, until you said 'Leave me alone'."  
"You came out looking for me."  
"What nerve," Ethan snorted, "I'm on an errand for Mummy. It has nothing to do with you."  
"Of course."  
"Since I've found you, though, I would like to request that on your way home, you pick up a bottle of gin. We're out."  
"I'm not coming home."  
"I suppose, then, that your home is now this alley."  
"Maybe it is."  
"You've got squatters, then," Ethan said, motioning toward a pair of rats creeping along the wall.  
"Oh, hell," Rupert said, gracelessly rolling himself along the wall away from them.  
"You could just charge them a nominal fee, and make a go at being flatmates."  
"Ethan-"  
"Or, take it out in trade. Perhaps one of them is a plumber, or just generally handy. Could be useful to have someone like that about."  
"Ethan-"  
"Or, perhaps, they've got furniture, and you could take the use of it in lieu of payment."  
"Ethan. Please." Rupert was now cleaning his glasses.  
"'Please', what? I but await your command."  
Rupert sighed. "Let's just go home."  
"All right, pull yourself together. I hate to see a grown medievalist cry. We actually do need to stop for the gin, though. Mummy's on the verge of doing something rash."  
"What?"  
"She's threatened to drink sherry."  
"Ethan."  
"What's that, Ripper?"  
"Your mother's awful."  
"Yes, I know. It's astonishing that I turned out as well as I did."  
"Ethan."  
"Yes, Ripper?"  
"Never mind."


End file.
